


A God and a Prophet

by tenebruhism



Category: Durarara!!, ノラガミ | Noragami (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Crossover, THIS IS JUST AN IDEA I HAD?!, WE'LL SEE HOW IT GOES!!!, anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27121172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenebruhism/pseuds/tenebruhism
Summary: Izaya dropped five yen into Yato's palm. "You would think a god would charge more," he mused. "So, we have a deal?""Your wish has been heard, loud and clear." Yato tossed up the coin and held it up once caught. "May our fates intertwine."Izaya isn't the same since he almost died. For one thing, his soul keeps slipping out of his body. And now he's met a god.Yato knows he must put an end to his father's schemes, but first he needs to find him. And find a way to end this. For that, he'll need information.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 44





	1. God of Fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yato,” he tested the name of the person he had an appointment with aloud. Who was he? No surname. No address. No records. None of his usual contacts had ever heard of him. No apparent connections at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1fLLiZjhKKVqkPYM7rrLjX?si=osj92pNQSsus8deutMs1yA

As Izaya waited for a prospective client to arrive, he shuffled the cards with a flourish. He had purchased them from a fortune teller in Asakusa a couple years ago, and the deck was heavily embellished with designs embossed with gold leaf. Rather than doing it properly, he laid them across the table with no particular question in mind. Though he did wonder if this reading was about him or his client. He flipped one over.

The Tower.

Izaya held up the card, twirling it between his fingers with a smile. His favorite.

Upheaval. Chaos. Revelation.

After a moment, he tossed it back on the table and sighed. Now he was starting to get bored…he pulled out a lighter and flicked it on and off. Looking at the small illustrated flames on The Tower, he considered what he was doing.

He knew almost nothing about this client.

That had never happened before.

It intrigued him. But—and he knew this better than anyone—as powerful as information was, so was a lack of it. That’s what made his work so valuable.

“Yato,” he tested the name of the person he had an appointment with aloud. Who was he? No surname. No address. No records. None of his usual contacts had ever heard of him. No apparent connections at all. An alias, perhaps? Could he be associated with the Yakuza? The most he could find were whispers on the internet about the name being graffitied across Tokyo. It might as well be whispers about a ghost, though.

It was so unlike him to agree to meet someone without the advantage of knowledge. But since information was a double edged sword, he couldn’t resist knowing more. He tossed the lighter high in the air, and watched it arc to the table. Before it landed on the cards, a hand from nowhere shot out to catch it.

“I don’t think burning the deck is how tarot works.”

Izaya’s hand flew to his pocket where his knife was hidden before seeing the voice belonged to a young man about Izaya’s age. Where did he come from?

He had dark, almost violet hair, striking blue eyes, and a playful smile. He would have looked almost otherworldly if not for his ridiculous outfit: a tracksuit with tall boots and a strange scarf tied around his neck. He flicked the lighter shut. Izaya cautiously relaxed his hand.

“Depends on how you feel about fate,” Izaya replied and watched him pick up an apple from a bowl of fruit. He started to eat it with vigor. However Izaya had pictured this ghost…this was not what he had been expecting.

“Nice place you got!” He said, looking around as he munched.

“You must be the mysterious Yato-san. ”

He nodded and perched himself on the arm on the couch across from him, catlike.

“Mysterious?” Yato asked as he devoured the apple.

“Well, no one’s ever heard of you!” He drawled, and took a sip from his tea. Yato flinched. Interesting. He continued.

“That’s bad for business, as an information broker! So…who exactly _are_ you, Yato-san?”

Yato tossed the apple core aside (much to Izaya’s displeasure), and drew himself up.

“That’s easy. I’m a god,” He pointed to himself and smiled. Those...inhuman blue eyes looked into calculating red ones for a moment. Then Izaya burst out laughing. 

“Yatogami? There is no such god!”

Once again, Yato winced. “There most certainly is! You're looking at him!”

Izaya put his tea down, and gathered the cards again. He began to shuffle them showily as he contemplated.

“Is that so? I’ve heard of the Yato-no-kami. Are you a snake deity?”

Yato scoffed indignantly as he continued to eat all the available food. “I’m a god of fortune!”

Izaya looked over his outfit again. “You’ll have to excuse me if I have trouble believing that,” he smirked. But he didn’t think this Yato was lying. Anywhere, or anyone else in the world might merely dismiss him as crazy. But here, with him, it was just another Tuesday in Ikebukuro. Though, an admittedly less mundane one.

It was a question of whether he was a human who believed himself to be a god, or the genuine artifact. Both options were equally appealing to explore. Namie strode by with annoyance and placed more food on the table before slinking off.

“Are you this rude to all of your clients?” He asked, taking more. _A hungry god_. It was almost an impressive speed of consumption. Izaya raised his eyebrows as he waited.

Finally, Yato pointed to the intact cards in Izaya’s hands with enthusiasm. “Well, go ahead!” Izaya splayed the deck across the table.

“The reading wasn’t set up for you,” He said. Yato flipped over three cards anyway.

The Two of Swords.

The Fool, reversed.

Then, The Tower again.

“Are you the god of fools?” Izaya tapped the middle card with a glint in his eyes.

Before Yato can respond, Izaya held up the Two of Swords. “You’ve had to make a difficult decision; between two options, you don’t know which one to take. Or, you might be an impasse. Something you’ve been putting off.”

Yato’s mischievous energy shifted into something unreadable. But that, in itself, was revealing. Izaya smiled, and moved on, waving the Fool.

“A little trickier. Normally a…free spirit, the weight of this decision is holding you back. Well, whatever the decision, you haven’t fully worked out your plan yet. Maybe you’re acting recklessly.”

_And that must be why you’re here._ Izaya could tell he was accurate. For the most part, he didn’t believe in fate or tarot cards. What he believed in their usefulness. He held up The Tower.

“Calamity,” Yato interrupted. His eyes were piercing.

“Oh, so the gods truly are all seeing!” Izaya mocked. The word clearly had weight. They both looked at the image of the two figures falling from a turret, emblazoned with a lightning strike, a crown thrown asunder.

“Yes. The Tower symbolizes crisis, destruction. It could also apply to an unforeseen change.”

Yato said nothing. Izaya stacked the cards, then comfortably leaned back. He spread his hands. “I think that was a very _informative_ reading, don’t you? But, let’s move on to business.”

He leans forward. “What are you after, Yatogami?”

Yato stood up, and took a step away for a moment in thought. “I’m looking for someone.”

Izaya was disappointed. This was a very common reason people came to him. “And who might that be?”

“I don’t know who he would be now,” Yato said, turning back to Izaya. He pictured a hysterical person’s accusation: _“I don’t even know who you are, anymore!”_ But the way Yato had said it, it felt quite literal. Izaya’s curiosity piqued as he waited for Yato to continue.

“He is immortal. He could be possessing any human.” He sat down again.

Izaya wondered if this had anything to do with Saika, but he would keep that question for himself.

“So, you need me to find the host,” Izaya nodded. The question of the legitimacy of Yato’s godhood didn’t really matter. Either way, it was interesting. Yato looked a little incredulous at his quick acceptance. Suspicious, even.

“But, a god needs the help of a human? How ironic!” He delighted.

“Actually, the gods need humans as much as you need us. But, I don’t know how I feel about getting a human involved,” Yato conceded. “The person I’m looking for is…dangerous.”

Izaya felt him holding back an elaboration. God of fools was feeling more fitting than ever. He waved his hand.

“That’s nothing new in this line of work. I’ll need you to tell me everything you know about this… _immortal_ ,” he emphasized the word. “…If we are to continue. But, I will find him. As for payment…”

Yato recoiled a third time, comically so.

“Yes?” Izaya asked. Oh, payment. Always seemed to be the most difficult part with clients. Apparently even with proclaimed gods.

“Couldn’t we think of this as…an offering?” Yato tried, sheepishly. Izaya laughed. The outfit made sense now.

“Oh, you don’t have any _money!_ That’s why you’re dressed like that.”

Yato crossed his arms. “Stop laughing! You should be in awe of me!”

“Anyway…” Izaya took a breath as choked back the rest of his laugh. “If you don’t have any money…do you have anything else to offer me?”

Izaya’s eyes glimmered. He wondered what Yato might come up with.

“…Not…at the moment,” Yato said painfully.

“A god of fortune has nothing to offer,” Izaya notes. “Well, come back when you do. I’d love to help, but the resources required…” he sighed dramatically.

Yato stood up again. “This place is crawling with phantoms anyway. I can’t stay without…” He trailed off.

Phantoms? Izaya logged that one into his vocabulary, but decided to leave it alone for now. He nodded with fake sympathy. “It’s a tough job market out there, even for a god I suppose! Hoping to see you again soon, Yatogami!”

Yato tucked his hands back in his pocket with the last of the food and looked back at Izaya, his initial playful energy returning.

“See ya, Orihara!” And he vanished in an instant; the only thing Izaya could see was the lingering imprint of those blue eyes for a second. Izaya took a second to recover from his shock, and then smiled. An impressive trick.

Izaya picked up The Tower with amusement, folding it over his hand again. Instead of a ghost, maybe he really had just met a god. Or maybe in the case of Yatogami…one and the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, having them interact was just an idea i thought was fun, especially since they have the same voice actor! i'm not even sure there's an audience out there for this crossover lol but still, i hope someone enjoys! could just leave this as a oneshot, though. 
> 
> i have ideas for a whole arc if it pans out, though :) it would include some spoilers for the manga of noragami if you aren't caught up! while i think it wouldn't be too confusing in the context of durarara, the canon timeline of noragami would be quite skewed so i would have to be careful to clarify things in the notes moving forward! 
> 
> would love to hear thoughts/reactions/if anyone interested in more! ❤️


	2. Phantom Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izaya snapped his phone shut and leaned back. He wouldn’t mind having a god in his debt. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the crows, emblazoned with an image of an eye, that intently watched him.

Yato (Yatogami). The name was neatly printed in black ink along the edge of the cream-colored folder. Izaya perused the practically empty file. He had originally been reaching for that of another client, but the thinness of this one caught his eye.

The file was troubling for two reasons. First, he had no memory of assembling it. Second of all, he had apparently known nothing about this person. Merely theories. He might as well have thrown a few pictures on a wall and tied red string across it.

Namie complained about the filing system, and it was true that complete digitization would’ve been more efficient. But riskier, as well. The prospect of being hacked, while unlikely, was a threat credible enough that Izaya hid his information in several different pockets. Plus…

It was much more fun to flip through a file. Or throw one down in front of someone. He lazily twirled his chair around as he looked.

Interestingly, it seemed that his research had taken him off of the internet, save for a few chat printouts that had let him to a few blurry photos of graffiti. It was a little thrilling to search for something so elusive it escaped the online sphere. Or rather, someone. 

Yatogami? A moniker, maybe. Better yet…he saw his handwriting underline “alias,” twice. He passed over his notes on Yato-no-kami, which were marked in a small red x, and instead focused on the question written, _what is his nature?_ And an arrow pointing from it to a short list: education, wealth, fortune, war…his eyes narrowed at the last one: calamity. A sense of déjà vu washed over Izaya as he suddenly recalled a pair of strange blue eyes.

Izaya had already met him.

But why didn’t he remember? So many questions…and Izaya was used to being the one who provided the answers. He pulled out one of the images of graffiti. There seemed to be a phone number in addition to the tag. He pulled out one of his cells as he squinted at the picture, trying to make out the numbers, and called. It rang for a moment. Then:

“Helloo! Delivery god Yato, at your service! I’m fast, affordable, and I get results!” The voice at the other end announced cheerfully. Izaya couldn’t help but laugh after such anticipation.

“Oh, so is that your godly nature? Deliveries? A little disappointing, isn’t it?” Izaya spun to a stop.

“Orihara?” He sounded surprised. “What do you want?”

“Well, Yatogami, I’d like to know who you are! It seems we’ve met, but I just can’t seem to remember…did you do something to me, then? Drugged me? How rude,” His voice floated over the line.

“Of course not!” Yato replied huffily. “Remembering me at all must mean I’m getting more popular!” Now he sounded delighted. Hmm. Izaya wasn’t sure what popularity had to do with his light amnesia.

He heard a muffled voice call out something that sounded vaguely insulting, causing Yato to shush whoever it was. “Anyway, yeah. We met a couple days ago.”

“It seems I didn’t take you on as a client.” 

“Yeah…I’m…low on funds at the moment!”

As the conversation went on, the memory of their meeting was slowly trickling back. The Tower. The hidden immortal. The intense eating habits. Yato’s disappearing act. Still, he continued to pretend his memory was faulty. At least, for now. He closed the file. 

“I’m feeling generous today, and it seems I’m having trouble remembering everything we discussed. We could review your…predicament, and consider payment as an…IOU?” Izaya smiled. At this point, things were too intriguing to resist.

“Really?” Yato sounded cautiously optimistic.

“Really. Let’s meet…oh, do you know Russia Sushi?” Even if Shizu-chan came by, there would be god on his side. Besides, it was a chance to tempt fate—one of Izaya’s favorite activities.

“Sure, I know that place. You better be buying!” The same voice as before pestered Yato on the other side. “Gotta go! Tonight, then?”

“Whatever you say, Yatogami.”

Izaya snapped his phone shut and leaned back. He wouldn’t mind having a god in his debt. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see the crows, emblazoned with an image of an eye, that intently watched him from outside. 

—

Snow began to fall lightly, further illuminated by the neon signs that lined the buildings. Izaya took a moment to appreciate his fur-lined coat’s warmth as he walked through the streets.

It didn’t take him long to notice he was being followed. He was a large man in a dark coat. It was quite funny how obvious was. He took another moment to appreciate the knives in his pocket, though he was confident he could evade this tail if it became necessary.

It was about to become necessary.

The tail had followed him for the last few blocks from a reasonable distance, but Izaya could see in the reflections of the buildings that he suddenly started to walk faster, closing the gap. Izaya's hand closed around one of the knives, but didn’t withdraw yet. He wanted to see what he was dealing with. He turned around.

“Nice night for a walk, isn’t it?” He called mockingly. The man said nothing, and continued to approach. These silent types really bored Izaya.

“Looks like someone left their dog off of their leash. I wonder who’s your master, hmm?”

Nothing again. The man moved methodically; practically robotic, even. Tch. _No point in bothering with this guy_ , he supposed, and turned heel. 

Izaya quickly jumped on a lower ledge of a building, and then jumped again until he was on a roof, running across. He seriously doubted this tail could be agile enough to chase him, especially at that size. After all, Shizu-chan had never caught him yet. He leaped to the next building.

Then, he heard a soft clatter behind him and looked. The tail had managed to find his way onto the roof, too. With alarming speed…and an unnatural ease. Something was off about this man. Izaya felt his adrenaline increase as he now drew several knives, throwing them at his mark with considerable accuracy.

No effect. Even as the blades sunk into the man, he continued. Who was this, the Terminator? Even Shizuo at least reacted to his knives, if not for very long. Izaya frowned as he reached another building’s edge and jumped down the fire escape back to the street. Maybe he could lose Schwarzenegger in a crowd. He was close to Russia Sushi, anyway.

He kept running. He could see his breath in the cold air. He chanced a glance back; he didn’t see the tail anymore. It was too easy, after all that. He felt a shift in the wind and movement out the corner of his eye, and instinctively dodged back, scarcely avoiding the slash of the tail’s own knife.

“Saika?” But his attacker lacked the trademark glowing red eyes. He moved with inhuman speed and strength. Izaya barely parried away another slash. As good as Izaya was…he wouldn’t last against this beast for long. He grimaced as the next slash he sidestepped was so close it cut a few hairs.

“Looks like we walked into a storm. Come, Sekki!” Izaya heard a familiar voice and saw a flash of light from his peripheral as he dodged a stab with a back handspring, securing a little distance between him and his opponent. Yato had appeared, standing on a railing, wielding two swords. At this point, people had begun to notice the fight and began to gather around.

“Get out of here!” Yato’s eyes narrowed, looking off…not directly at the man, but past him. He arced through the air, slicing behind the man. It was then he noticed the a glowing, monstrous snake marked with a simplified design of what appeared to be an eye. The word had carefully catalogued earlier echoed in his mind: phantom.

Izaya’s moment of distraction made him unaware of the second assailant behind him until the blade plunged into his back. 

He couldn’t even manage a scream as pain seared into him, softly exhaling and collapsing instead. His blood began pooled around him, slowly saturating the asphalt his face laid against. It was cool and rough.

He thought he heard…someone yell. Yato, it must be. But all sound felt distant and muffled. He clawed at the dark pavement, reaching for his cellphone, his knife, anything…his fingers were too slick, unable to grab them as they slipped farther away. _Damn it_. He felt his consciousness fading by the second. He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. And he slipped away.

Right out of his body. Izaya looked down at his apparently lifeless form, then at his own shaking hands. Both existing simultaneously.

He heard sirens wailing the distance but getting louder as they approached. He turned in time to see Yato cleave the snake through the eye. Izaya’s first attacker seemed suddenly confused. No sign of the second one.

Yato leaped toward him, looking him over with a frown. “Not again…” He put a hand on his hip and pointed to Izaya’s unconscious body as the ambulance arrived. “You better get back in there if you wanna live.”


	3. A Wish and a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You haven’t worked out your plan yet. Maybe you’re acting recklessly.” His own words taunted him. A decision. An unforeseen change. He had said these things to Yato when they had first met…but he had a hard time denying it was applicable to himself.

Yato couldn’t believe his luck. Or, maybe misfortune was a better way to describe it. He wondered who else might have it out for him. Another half-phantom problem? What were the freaking odds of that!

Before Izaya Orihara had fallen back into his body, he had insisted he not go to the hospital and instead told Yato a specific address; that’s where they (hoped) they were headed to now.

“We need to hurry up, Yato!” Yukine said from his side, pointing ahead.

“Easy for you to say!!! You’re not the one carrying a body!” Yato complained, hauling around an unconscious Orihara on his back. He was actually very light (and it wouldn’t have really been a problem for Yato if he hadn’t been), but it wasn’t easy or comfortable trying to move quickly yet in unison with Yukine, who was trying to keep pressure on the stab wound behind him. He knew Yukine was right though…

There was a lot of blood.

Now Yato knew for sure he shouldn’t have gotten another human involved...but now Orihara was stuck in this regardless. What Yato couldn’t figure out though was whether Father had done this as warning not to try to find him, or because Orihara had had a real chance of identifying him. Yato grimaced. It was about to be too late to matter; maybe he should have just dropped Orihara off at the hospital. It would have been better not to have move him themselves at all, but there hadn’t exactly been time to argue.

He hadn’t been too sure about working with this guy, anyway. Well, that was something to be worked out. That is, if Orihara survived…Yato turned the corner.

“Well, this is the address he said,” Yukine gestured to an apartment building and gave Yato a sidelong glare. “And you better explain what’s going on…you said this was just a job inquiry!”

“Let’s worry about one thing at time!” Yato averted his eyes and entered the building. Yes, he had brought Yukine to meet with Orihara, but he had stayed vague about the reasoning. What would’ve been the point of bringing everything up if Orihara had just said no again? 

At any rate…he had admittedly not thought it through. He should have expected Father to act swiftly. He suddenly remembered what Orihara had said about being the god of fools: “ _You haven’t fully worked out your plan yet. Maybe you’re acting recklessly,_ ” and frowned as he navigated up the stairs.

Orihara slipped a little and Yato nearly tripped. He groaned a little. _Great, definitely would have been great if I had dropped the victim of stabbing!_ But at least Orihara was still alive.

Yukine moved around him, approaching the door of an apartment with loud knocking. After a moment, the door flew open to reveal a young man in a lab coat and glasses.

"Hey!" Yukine waved in his face until he blinked and finally noticed the odd trio. His eyes widened with intrigue as he took in Yato, Yukine, and a bloody Izaya Orihara.

“Who are you guys? Izaya…?” He peered over Yato’s shoulder at Orihara.

“Oh good, you know him! Well, I’m Yato, and this is Yukine. I…believe we require your services!” It wasn’t really an explanation at all. Time was of the essence, so Yato flashed him a hopefully convincing smile. The apparent doctor moved aside to let him in.

“Did Shizuo finally get him, then?” The doctor asked inquisitively, but also familiarly like this was a repeated question. He pointed Yato to a couch as he appraised the situation.

“What? No, who’s that?” Yato slid Orihara onto the couch and shrugged off his coat. It was matted in blood. He looked pale. The doctor waved his hand as he put on some gloves.

“Oh, never mind! Just tell me what happened,” he turned to get out a medical kit.

“Stabbed with a knife. A mortal knife, I think. In the back.”

He raised an eyebrow and began to inspect the wound. “Never would have thought Izaya would lose a knife fight…and a stab wound? This _is_ ironic,” He began to work, and Yato watched over his shoulder very closely. If Orihara died…

“Yato, give him some space! Geez!” Yukine said on the other side of the room, shoving his hands in his pockets with annoyance. But Yato could tell…he was worried too. Yato backed up a little, and instead looked around the apartment. The mug with an Irish flag on the counter was the most notable feature, until a woman without a head burst into the room.

“Wha—what!!!” Yukine yelped.

She wore a black biker jumpsuit and began furiously texting on her phone after reacting to the scene with a jump backward. So she had seen them immediately! That was unusual! Along with the headlessness, of course.

She held the phone up to the doctor, and Yato peeked at the message: _Shinra!!! What is going on!!! What happened to Izaya?? Who are these people?_

“Celty, uh, this is Yato and Yukine. I don’t know who they are or really what happened!” He said brightly as he dressed the wound.

Yato leaped over to this Celty with interest, whose body language continued to signify alarm.

“Yeah, I’m Yato! I’m a god. And who are you? Or, maybe it’s better to ask _what_ you are…” He tilted his head to the side, taking in the shadows that emanated from her neck. “Are you from the Far Shore too?”

Shinra looked over with renewed interest, but Celty backed up, typing on her phone again. She held up another message to Shinra: _This guy is crazy!!!_

“Hey! I’m not crazy! I’m someone to be worshiped! Adored!!”

Yukine rolled his eyes. “You’re not exactly selling it, Yato.”

“No…I don’t think you are from the Far Shore,” Yato considered aloud. “An intermediary, maybe? That’s new! You’re certainly not from around here, though!” He sat on the top of an armchair and crossed his legs. While she couldn’t exactly stare at him, she turned toward him in a way that felt she was.

“Hey, is he gonna be okay or what?” Yukine interrupted, directing this question at Shinra, while Celty began waving messages about aliens.

“I’m not an alien, I’m a GOD!”

Shinra raised his eyebrow again as he began to stitch the wound. “Are you in his debt or something? Did he blackmail you?”

Yukine stared agape. “No! Why would you ask that!”

“I’m guessing you two don’t know Izaya too well! I was just trying to figure out why you two care about his well-being so much! It’s not common.”

“Aren’t you a _doctor?_ Aren’t you supposed to care about your patients!”

Shinra merely shrugged and answered his earlier question instead. “Yeah, he should be fine. It’ll take about a week or so if it heals right, but the blade just missed anything vital.”

Yukine visibly relaxed, though he gave Yato a pointed look. Yato knew he was going to have to talk to him, but...right now wasn't the right time. He enjoyed the brief sense of relief too, though. But he knew that this was just the beginning.

**-**

Izaya woke up feeling like Shizuo-chan had thrown a vending machine at him. Wait…had he? No…he blinked up at the white ceiling as he began to recount what had happened. He felt uncharacteristically foggy and then noticed the IV in his arm. He grimaced.

He had underestimated what he was dealing with. Monsters.

 _“You haven’t worked out your plan yet. Maybe you’re acting recklessly.”_ His own words taunted him. A decision. An unforeseen change. He had said these things to Yato when they had first met…but he had a hard time denying it was applicable to himself. He started to laugh, and it soon became an uncontrollable fit of laughter.

He remembered seeing his own lifeless body. Maybe it had been a near death experience? Some form of depersonalization? He ran his mind over the possibilities before coming to the most frustrating conclusion: He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything except that he had really almost died. Just like that. He, Izaya Orihara, didn’t know anything and almost died! Ha ha ha!

Izaya felt his heart rate increase as he became breathless from the laughing. He tried to stop. His jaw worked as his body’s physical reactions continued to betray him. Eventually, he closed his eyes and twisted one of his rings until his breathing finally started to slow down. He needed to assess things. He needed to get out of here right now.

He was aware of the stitches in his back, though the pain was clearly being curbed by medication. He could tell he was in fact at Shinra’s apartment, but lying in a room he hadn’t been in before. He heard chattering through the door.

“Hey, can I see your…what do you call it? A familiar! That’s awesome! And it can change form??” From Yato, who sounded like his mouth was full of food. Then, a “Get off!!! No, you can’t dissect me, you moron!!!” From a voice he didn’t recognize, a distinct _THUD_ and an “Owww” from Shinra, and finally “Yukine, cut it out!” from Yato again. He saw shadows shifting the light coming from underneath the doorway, and surmised Celty was here too. There was more crashing.

Surprisingly, Izaya found he could easily get up. He opened the door and looked into the living room to see Yato, Shinra, and a boy he didn’t know (presumably the unidentified voice…Yukine) all separated by Celty’s shadows. They stared at him in the doorway, and he couldn’t suppress a smirk at the ridiculous scene.

“Orihara!” Yato seemed to somehow slip out of Celty’s shadows onto a chair after a decent wriggle. He hadn’t seen anyone manage that before. Celty quickly relaxed her hold though. Shinra dusted himself off and the disgruntled kid, Yukine, looked Izaya over.

“Hey! You shouldn’t get up yet!" But Shinra’s expression suddenly became a mix of acute intrigue and confusion as he pointed at Izaya. “What is THAT? Is that a _tail?”_

What was he even talking about? Izaya looked down though.

He _did_ have a tail. A tail. A fucking tail. A fucking glowing tail.

“Yatogami,” Izaya replied with a too-evenly collected cool. “Mind explaining what all this is about, now?”

Shinra suddenly began to steer Celty out of the room, sensing how much he didn’t want to know about whatever Izaya had gotten into. “You know what! You guys seem like you have a lot to talk about, sooo we’ll be back later! Keep those stitches clean, Izaya! Byyye!” Celty only barely grabbed her cat shaped helmet on the way out.

Yato practically pouted watching her go. Then he looked over at Yukine, who shrugged.

“I don’t know how to explain it. It’s all you.”

Yato took a deep breath and stood up.

He paced as he started to explain. “How do I explain…well, first of all, do you finally believe I’m a god?”

Izaya made a noise of irritation which Yato apparently took as a reluctant yes.

“That’ll make it easier, then. Alright…Your uh…current state…” he gestured to the tail, “must be because of the attack. So…there’s the Near Shore, where the living reside, and the Far Shore.” He rubbed his chin. “Humans would call it…the afterlife, I guess? You’re still alive…” He glanced at the tail, “but you’re also…kind of a Phantom. Like the snake you saw earlier; they’re incarnations of emotional energy, and they possess people and cause a lot of trouble. You’re stuck between the Near and Far Shore. You’ll probably lose your body a lot. Like now.” 

“Way to clear things up, Yato. He’s probably just more confused now,” Yukine muttered.

“You just said you couldn’t explain either!”

They broke into bickering.

The panicked laughter was threatening to making a reappearance. Izaya’s body shook from the effort of holding it back. Or, was it really his body? Was he dead? Was he alive? Then one clear truth dawned on him.

He wasn’t human. He threw open the door of the room he had just left.

“Ha ha ha ha!”

That meant he was a monster. He saw his sleeping body, still lying where he had left it without even realizing.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!” He clutched his sides. Maybe it was a good thing he lost his body! He would’ve torn the stitches! Ha ha ha ha!

“Oh my god. He’s crazy,” Yukine murmured. “Why did you want to meet a crazy person?”

“It _is_ a lot to take in,” Yato conferred with a mutter.

All that time observing. Obsessing over. Loving humans. He had never really thought himself as one of them, being with them…and he never would. He felt a hand on his shoulder straighten him up.

“Hey. We’ll figure this out,” Yato said, with those inhuman blue eyes. The absurdity of the statement was enough to put a hiccup in Izaya’s spiral.

“ _We?_ What could _you_ possibly to do! Is this all just according to god’s plan? You’re just an idiot in an tracksuit, god or not!” Izaya turned away, thinking rapidly. Yato gave him a calculating look.

“Hey, don’t you know not to judge people’s appearances!” He said indignantly. “And yeah, _we._ Maybe I should be putting this in your terms. We were going to make a deal, weren’t we?”

Izaya glared at him and wretched himself back. They didn’t know him. They didn’t even know him…

“And now I have a way to pay you. Make a wish.”

Another burst of laughter. “Am I a child? Should I be wishing upon a star?”

“Gods operate on human wishes, dumbass!”

Izaya stared. “I thought you said I wasn’t human.”

Yato flailed his arms. “It’s not so black and white! You’re…on the fence.”

Izaya considered all this, processing all this information. Information. Now he had some; now, he could make a plan. It was his lifeline, and he grasped it. He reviewed what he knew, trying to catalog it as clearly as he could in his mind:

Yatogami had initially met with him because he had been seeking a hidden immortal, possessing a human. Yatogami was a god of fortune (a god of fools)…a god of something else, perhaps. Izaya had forgotten Yato, somehow, but had remembered after talking to him again. Phantoms…”incarnations of human emotions,” existed. The Near and Far Shores. The issue of losing his body could be a serious problem, even if he decided to step out of this whole affair. He couldn’t even list the amount of people that would love to find his defenseless, spiritually abandoned body on the street.

There was plenty Yato wasn’t telling him though; after all, it had pretty obviously been a coordinated attack considering the tail and the secondary assailant. So, it had to be connected to this hidden immortal. He recalled that the kid, Yukine, hadn’t been at their first meeting. It seemed like an intentional choice. Now Izaya had to decide where to take this conversation.

He couldn’t be losing his body. That was the clearest thing. But Yatogami was smart enough to initiate a trade…he had to be careful not to underestimate again if he was to go forward. There was something still annoying him though.

“So, was that a human possessed by a phantom who attacked me?” Izaya despised the idea that phantoms possessed humans and influenced their behavior.

“Yeah, looks like.”

Oh, he was definitely holding back. Izaya was starting to feel in his element again. Yes…he understood how to deal in information; the main thing that had really changed in that regard was just now he had a whole new place to look for it. Another dimension to it. At least information was still transactional across the Near and Far Shores. The part of him that had been interested in Yato as a client in the first place bristled as his thoughts settled. The two of swords: An impasse. A decision.

“Okay, Yatogami. Let’s make a deal. And a wish. Help me with my…problem. And I’ll help you with yours.”

Yukine watched carefully. Well, it was up to Yato to maintain discretion if that’s what he wanted. Yato nodded.

“You’ll need to pay up.” He held out his hand, demonstrating “five.”

Izaya raised his eyebrow. “You wouldn’t be trying to rip me off after all that, now would you?”

“Tch. What do you offer when you petition the gods, Orihara? A five yen coin!”

“You may as well call me Izaya, Yatogami!” He pulled out some change from his pocket.

Izaya dropped five yen into Yato's palm. "You would think a god would charge more," he mused. "So, we have a deal?"

He felt a smile form on his face as he pushed away any more residing…how did Yato put it? Troublesome emotional incarnations?

"Your wish has been heard, loud and clear." Yato tossed up the coin and held it up once caught. "May our fates intertwine. Unless you decide to burn fate, of course.”

Yato's playful smile met Izaya's, a deal and a wish finally brokered between a god...and something else entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> big shoutout to anyone bearing with me i continue to flail around this keyboard LOL ❤️ trying to get in the heads of these two is even harder than i thought it would be AGH


	4. Kings and Pawns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I am called Nora,” she replied with a soft leap toward him. She was somehow unnerving. Like Yato, she possessed an otherworldly quality, but while Yato’s inhuman nature tended to only reveal itself in his rarer, serious moments, hers was unwavering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO sorry this update took so long! hopefully i can keep up better in the future!

Namie sighed with distaste as yet another book clattered across the room. “You know, it’s just going to take you longer to heal if you keep throwing things like that,” she said flatly.

Izaya crossed his arms; he almost looked like a child pouting in frustration as he sat on the leather couch. It had been nearly a week since…he had sort of died. But besides the whole, “on the fence of afterlife” thing, he was close to being back to full health if he was careful. Yato refused to answer Izaya until he was better, but he was growing impatient and bored. Some deal and some wish this was turning out to be.

“It’s all useless,” he muttered. His research was going to go nowhere if he didn’t get more context. He didn’t even know what he was looking for yet. Namie slinked out of the room rolling her eyes, leaving Izaya with his unhelpful thoughts. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way.

He had still been trying to learn more about Yato specifically, but perhaps he needed to broaden his net before narrowing it. His usual methods probably weren’t going to work for this, at least not right away. Still, he somewhat painfully made his way over to his computer to check the chat room.

His attack had made the news, but since the three of them hadn’t stuck around, his identity hadn’t been reported. It had appeared to be something like a mugging gone wrong, though there were plenty of theories that it had been a clash of some of the color gangs. Tensions had been rising lately between the Dollars and the Yellow Scarves, so the speculation wasn’t completely unwarranted. He logged on and began to type.

_Kanra: did anyone hear about that stabbing last week? sooo scary!!!_

No one responded right away, so he drummed his fingers on the desk restlessly. Maybe he could find at least find Yato and track him down himself.

_Kanra: i heard people saw a weird guy in a tracksuit there!! i wonder if he’s part of the dollars! maybe he’s the one that did it :o_

As he waited, he looked around the large room, giving his chair a solid spin before standing back up to approach the coffee table, which had his various game pieces, boards, and cards strategically combined and placed across it. He reached his back and felt the remaining stitches of the wound with a grimace. It was irritating how long this was taking. As he stood over the table, he noticed the glass of water began to ripple unnaturally. Like something, from somewhere, had poured a drop from nowhere.

“Izaya Orihara, is it?” a cool voice drawled, and Izaya whirled around to the source, instinctively drawing and throwing a knife. He wasn’t taking any more chances, but the combination of the speed and the stretch of the movement was enough to tug at his wound, causing him to wince.

The knife impaled itself in the wooden panel past a girl’s face. She was young and almost ethereal, with short black hair and a white paper crown. More notable were the tattoos that were etched all over her body. She smiled as she considered the blade next to her head. It was an expression Izaya recognized well; after all, it was common enough on his own face.

“Quick reflexes, but not the best aim,” she noted, thoughtfully.

Izaya smiled in spite of himself. “I wasn’t aiming to hit you, you should realize. It’s my form of greeting for unexpected guests.” He probably should have been more alarmed, but truthfully, he had been wondering if someone else—or another monster—would approach him. It was unusual for him to be so personally and directly involved in a conflict, so he was bracing himself for anything at this point.

“Well, a knife like that wouldn’t do much good against me,” she dismissed with a laugh. She looked him over, taking her time. Even when she smiled, her face felt like an unfeeling mask. “Hm…really, I have no idea why Yato would go to a human for help.” She tilted her head. “What’s special about you?”

“Not very polite to break into my home and ask me questions without so much as an introduction. I do take appointments. Are you a god, too, then?” Izaya mused calmly, another knife ready in the pocket. Despite what she had said, he was willing to guess that a properly targeted one would at least slow her down. The fact that she was knew Yato was more than enough to keep him cautious. However, he wondered if there was anything he might glean from a conversation (if she wasn’t here to kill him, of course).

“I am called Nora,” she replied with a soft leap toward him. She was somehow unnerving. Like Yato, she possessed an otherworldly quality, but while Yato’s inhuman nature tended to only reveal itself in his rarer, serious moments, hers was unwavering.

“Like a stray,” Izaya pointed out. The tattoos across her arms and legs rippled like the water as she moved. Now that she was closer, he could see that they were all names, which was strange. “How unfortunate! No master to call your own? Wandering all alone?”

Her smile remained unchanged. “Oh, aren’t you sharp? Maybe that’s why. You would do better to stay out of our affairs, though.”

“Did you come all the way here to threaten me? You’re wasting your time.” He hoped to get some information out of her, but frankly, if she _was_ threatening him, it was rather tedious. And late. He had already been attacked once already, after all. His wound ached at the thought.

“I only came to see what the fuss was about.” She observed the mixture of game boards and cards on Izaya’s table, and picks up a two chess pieces. Like his tarot deck, the set was similarly ornate while still retaining their classic aesthetic and function. She examined their carvings before holding them out to him; she had selected the ivory ones. The most statistically advantageous ones, as white always went first in a match.

“The pawn and the king are both so vulnerable. Weak. One to be sacrificed. One to be conquered,” her dark eyes sparkled.

Izaya watched her with a momentary frown as he realized that it wasn’t her inhumanity that he found so unnerving. It was how surprisingly similar she was to him. Certainly, he knew nothing about her so he couldn’t be sure how far the likeness extended. But the expressions, the mockery, the curiosity; even the floating quality of her voice resembled his own.

“Clearly, you’re not as well acquainted with chess as you think. Neither is necessarily weak. It’s all about the strategy. The king, of course, is always decisive in victory. Or defeat. But a king and pawn together is a fundamental endgame,” his eyes glimmered too.

She considered, tracing the form of the king. “Which are you? Do you hold a crown? Or are you a tool?”

He plucked the pawn and king from her palm and set them back down on the board. “I’m not a piece. I’m a player.”

“Then you should figure out who you’re playing against. If you can, that is.” Her words felt like a challenge that was close to confirming what Izaya suspected: that she was tied to who Yato was looking for.

“Not you, then?”

“Not quite.” She took a long pause. “Izaya. Not unlike the prophet. Such a unique name. You should treasure that.” Her tone had a practically imperceptible note of…could it be envy?

Izaya smiled. “Not everyone can appreciate a good name. Looks like you can, though,” he pointedly eyed her tattoos. Her expression tightened slightly, and Izaya found the hint of a reaction satisfying.

“On the other hand, it could also mean ‘the one who looks over the crowd,’” she suggests, a degree colder. “How sad. What a lonely human you must be!”

“Such assumptions you make!” Izaya lets out an unamused laugh of surprise. “About me, about humans! That could get you into trouble! Who says I wouldn’t rather watch, anyway?”

Yet, he felt an uncomfortable twinge as he recalled his reaction to learning he was a phantom. Or half-phantom, whatever. How he had spent all that time obsessing over and loving humans without being part of them. That unexpected taste of regret. The bitterness that he normally preferred wasn’t something he wanted to savor right now. However, it seemed like both her and Yato still saw him as human in spite of the transformation. He clung to that notion he still could be, and that as Yato promised, he could be restored. The irony that something he had dismissed about himself for so long becoming what he desired most now didn’t escape him.

Nora merely looked at him. He had a feeling this impromptu drop-in visit was about to conclude. “Tell Yato hello. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again; I hope we have quite the match,” her smile returned.

“Next time, feel free to call my secretary,” Izaya replied as she vanished as easily as water trickling away.

He reviewed the conversation. She hadn’t answered him that she was a god, so maybe she was some other kind of inhabitant of the Far Shore. And she was not only acquainted with Yato, but most likely connected to this hidden immortal. That suggested this might be more personal than Izaya had realized. The only other thing that had seemed relevant was her focus on names, but he didn’t know how to apply that knowledge yet.

Suddenly, he heard a familiar ping that signified someone had responded in the chat room. He went back over to his computer.

_TarouTanaka: i heard about it too! i thought they said it was random...did you hear something kanra?_

Ah, of course Mikado would be the first to ask since the Dollars had been mentioned. Izaya half expected a phone call from him; Mikado had been struggling with the unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of his gang, something that Izaya relished.

_Setton: i’ve seen him before. no way he’s part of the dollars!_

He was abruptly reminded that Celty could see Yato just fine. Hm...and as a transporter, maybe she had seen him around the city now that she knew him.

_Kanra: you’ve seen him before? wow setton i hope you’re being careful!! who knows what a guy like that is up to!_

_Setton: just a few times. he was wandering around near the tenjin shrine_

_TarouTanaka: ive never heard of a guy like this!_

_Bacura: i wonder how he does with the laaadies! tracksuits aren’t cool though :/_

_Saika: oh no…we should be careful!_

The chat continued to spiral off as the others guessed about the gangs’ nonexistent role in the stabbing, but Izaya had gotten what he needed: a starting point. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

“Yatogami, really, it’s so impolite to keep me waiting,” he leaves on the voicemail. “I’d call me back, or I’m coming to you. Oh…and a Nora says hello?” He adds, hoping that would elicit a response from Yato. Izaya pulled his fur-lined coat off of the hook and slowly eased it on. Despite what he had just told Yato, he wasn’t waiting anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO SORRY IT'S A BIT SHORT!!! i just didn't want to keep waiting any longer! lol all these conversations are so DRAMAAATIC...


End file.
